The Bomb Girl Brides

by Daisy Styles

  As the two girls left for work, Julia popped her head around the doorframe. Catching sight of her, Rosa quickly closed her eyes and groaned loudly.

  ‘Strange …’ astute Julia observed. ‘We’ve all eaten the same food but you’re the only one that’s got a tummy bug.’

  Not trusting herself to speak, Rosa turned her face to the pail by her bed and retched, after which, seething at Julia, she rolled on to her side so she wouldn’t have to look at the interfering girl. Seizing the opportunity, Julia quickly peered into the bucket, which, considering all the noise that Rosa had been making, was surprisingly empty.

  After she heard the door bang shut behind Julia, Rosa lay tense on her bed, listening out for the tiniest sound; she had to be absolutely sure that she really was on her own. Hardly daring to breathe, she threw off her bedcovers and slipped fully dressed out of bed. She neatly made up the bed, then took her rucksack from its hiding place and quickly checked the contents for the tenth time: warm clothes, several changes of underwear, the little money she’d managed to save and her notebook with the photographs of her brother.

  ‘Ready,’ she said in a trembling whisper.

  Still fearful of being discovered, she crept into the sitting room, where she pulled on her stout walking boots and warm winter coat; then, with her rucksack slung over her shoulder, Rosa walked out of the cowshed, wondering, as she slammed the door shut behind her, if she would ever see it again.

  20. Consequences

  Maggie arrived back at the cowshed first. After a day on the allotment with Percy and Polly, her gardening overalls stank of manure and compost. Keen not to bring the smell into the sitting room, Maggie wriggled out of her overalls on the doorstep before stepping inside.

  ‘Hello,’ she called softly, just in case Rosa was asleep.

  Getting no reply, she crept towards Rosa’s bedroom door, which was standing slightly ajar.

  ‘Hello,’ she whispered again.

  But when she looked inside, Rosa’s bed was empty. With only ten minutes to go before she clocked on for her shift, Maggie dashed into the bathroom, where she quickly washed herself. When she came out, rubbing herself dry with a towel, Julia and Nora, just returned from Wrigg Hall, were also back and preparing for work.

  ‘Rosa’s not here, so she must be feeling better,’ Maggie informed her friends.

  ‘She’s probably nipped over to the canteen to grab a chip butty!’ Nora joked.

  ‘Come on,’ Maggie giggled as she grabbed Nora by the arm. ‘If we’re quick we can grab one too.’

  After the chattering girls had left in a rush, Julia checked out Rosa’s bedroom, where at first nothing looked unusual. Rosa’s slippers were under the bed, her dressing gown was hanging on the back of the door, a cardigan lay neatly folded on a chair. But, just as Julia was turning to leave the room, her eyes fell on a scrap of paper on the floor. She picked it up and guessed immediately that the handsome man with the dark brooding eyes and high cheekbones must be Rosa’s brother.

  ‘She must have dropped it when she left,’ Julia thought. Turning it over and noting some numbers on the back that looked like possible codes, she decided to keep hold of the photograph. ‘It could be useful.’ She wondered if Rosa had intended to take it with her to the canteen, if that’s where she actually was. ‘Surely not,’ Julia reasoned. Any photographs would be destroyed in no time in the filthy factory environment.

  Without a moment’s hesitation, Julia, who right from the start had been unconvinced about Rosa’s sudden tummy bug, started to rummage through Rosa’s chest of drawers and wardrobe to see if she could find anything else that would help her get to the bottom of Rosa’s odd behaviour. But, after searching through her things and finding nothing of any relevance, Julia felt a mixture of irritation and frustration. She remembered seeing her once with a notebook that she’d been suspiciously secretive about, but there was no sign of it anywhere.

  ‘Am I just making this up?’ she questioned herself. ‘For all I know she might be at work!’ Tucking the photograph into her pocket, Julia left the room. ‘There’s only one way to find out,’ she thought as she pulled on her coat and hurriedly made her way to the Phoenix.

  After clocking on Julia searched the cordite line, the filling shed and the dispatch yard for Rosa. When the hooter sounded for the start of the new shift, a wave of workers surged out of the canteen; Julia, pressed against a wall, scanned every face in the crowd, but Rosa was not amongst them. Determined not to panic, Julia checked the changing room and the ladies’ toilet, then breathlessly joined Kit at their bench in the filling shed.

  ‘Have you seen Rosa?’ Julia casually asked, as her fingers, normally so deft and nimble, fumbled with the filthy gunpowder. ‘I’ve looked everywhere but she doesn’t appear to be in the building.’

  Looking concerned, Kit muttered, ‘Where on earth could she have got to?’

  Oblivious to the jolly voices of Gracie Fields and Arthur Askey on Music While You Work, Julia’s brain was racing; she instinctively knew that the girl was up to something. Feigning sickness and disappearing without any explanation required a bold plan, which Rosa must have carefully put together. But what is she up to, Julia pondered. The only possible idea that had any kind of logic to it was that desperately unhappy Rosa had taken off to search for her brother.

  ‘If that’s the case,’ Julia puzzled, ‘where would she go? Who would she turn to for advice?’

  Within a split-second Julia had answered her own question: there was only one place where Rosa could go if she was serious. ‘London!’ she thought.

  Keeping her face as composed as possible, Julia turned to Kit. ‘Am I right in thinking your friend Gladys works at St Thomas’ Hospital?’

  Kit looked surprised by her question. ‘Yes,’ she answered.

  ‘What’s the name of her boyfriend again?’

  ‘Reggie Lloyd, Dr Reggie Lloyd,’ Kit replied with an anxious frown. ‘Why do you ask?’

  Not wanting to alarm heavily pregnant Kit with her own fears, Julia smiled. ‘Just curious,’ she said, and, pretending to be humming along to the music, she started to make her own bold plan.

  Edna outmatched a lioness protecting her cubs when it came to taking care of Marilyn and Katherine, who trailed after her like nervous chicks following a mother hen. Edna discovered that the best thing she could do to take their mind off their worries was to let them work alongside her in the shop. She warned them not to go near the red-hot chip range, but they could wipe down the dining tables, fill up the salt and vinegar bottles and shape newspaper squares into little bags. Marilyn was clever enough to write out the daily menu on the blackboard. Being busy kept the girls occupied but night-times were bad. Both girls regularly woke up with screaming nightmares.

  ‘No! Daddy, no!’

  ‘Please don’t hurt Mummy.’

  It just about broke Edna’s heart to hear their anguished cries, but she found if she lay in her big double bed between the two of them she could soothe each in turn and eventually they would snuggle down in the safety of her arms and go back to sleep.

  ‘I could kill that bastard father of theirs with mi bare hands,’ Edna said to Malc one night after she’d finally settled the girls in bed.

  Malc, who’d seen the madness and the sadness too in Flora’s husband’s crazed eyes, repeated Flora’s words. ‘She said he was a good man till he joined up; it’s the war that’s turned him into what he is now – the war and the booze.’

  ‘But to take it out on children, his own flesh and blood!’ Edna insisted. ‘It’s inhuman.’ Taking a hankie from her pinafore pocket, she dabbed at the tears streaming down her face. ‘I’ll never forgive him, never!’ she raged. ‘He could have killed my Flora – but for you and that neighbour of hers she could be lying dead in her grave!’ Edna’s ample breast gave a great heart-broken heave.

  ‘Come ’ere, you poor love,’ Malc murmured, as he gathered his sobbing wife into his strong arms. ‘Thank Christ, given what might have happened
, they’re all safe.’

  ‘You’re a brave man,’ Edna murmured as she reached up to kiss Malc’s face. ‘I’m sorry I thought you were off gallivanting!’

  Malc suppressed a guffaw of laughter. ‘There’s only one woman I want to gallivant with and she’s my wife,’ he said, as he gently kissed Edna’s soft pink lips.

  Nora was delighted to see Marilyn and Katherine back in Pendleton and willingly babysat the little girls whenever she got the chance.

  ‘I’ve got a new friend I’d like you to meet,’ she told them one day after Edna had dropped them off at the cowshed.

  ‘Is she pretty?’ Katherine asked.

  ‘She’s got pink cheeks and pink skin and quite big ears,’ Nora said with a secretive smile.

  ‘What colour’s her hair?’ Marilyn inquired.

  ‘Silver.’

  ‘How old is she?’

  ‘Younger than you two,’ Nora replied.

  ‘Does she go to school?’

  ‘She’s not very bright; her favourite thing is eating,’ Nora giggled.

  ‘Eating what?’ asked an intrigued Marilyn.

  ‘Anything – she’s not fussy,’ Nora chuckled.

  By the time they’d trudged up the hill to the allotments, Nora was breathless with answering their endless questions; she was also excited.

  ‘This way, come on, follow me,’ she called, as she made her way into the muddy allotment.

  ‘UGH!’ groaned the girls. ‘Does your friend live here?’

  ‘For the time being this is her home,’ Nora said. ‘Here she is!’ she declared, and Polly came trotting up to the fence, grunting expectantly.

  ‘A PIG!’ both girls exclaimed at the same time.

  ‘Not just a pig – Polly the pig!’ proud Nora said, as she tickled Polly’s ears, then produced from her overall pockets some crusts of bread. ‘Here, give her these – careful of your fingers, she might nip.’

  Polly devoured the crusts, then gazed up at the girls with her baleful little piggy eyes. ‘She wants some more,’ Katherine laughed.

  ‘She can wait till supper-time,’ Nora answered firmly. ‘Me and Maggie bring her buckets of slops morning and night.’

  The girls groaned again in loud disgust. ‘URGH!’

  Nora mucked out Polly’s soiled bedding, whilst Marilyn and Katherine inspected the sprouting seedlings kept warm in the shed well away from Polly’s greedy eyes.

  ‘We’ll soon be planting them out,’ Nora explained. ‘Look! Carrots, parsnips, peas, beans, kale and cabbage,’ she said, showing the girls the seed packets with the images of the vegetables on the front.

  ‘Can you grow chips?’ Katherine giggled.

  ‘Don’t be daft,’ Nora laughed. ‘You should know better than anybody; your nana’s chips come from fresh potatoes.’

  Hearing their collective laughter, Polly joined in the fun with a happy grunt.

  ‘I like her,’ Marilyn said and stroked Polly’s ears just as she’d seen Nora do earlier.

  ‘How long will she stay here?’ Katherine inquired.

  A shadow passed over Nora’s smiling face. ‘Till May,’ she said.

  ‘Where will she go after May?’ Katherine asked.

  Nora gulped. ‘Heaven.’

  The girls looked shocked. ‘Will she die?’ Marilyn cried.

  Nora replied with a sob in her voice, ‘She’ll be made into sausages and bacon.’

  The girls’ eyes grew as wide as saucers. ‘You could hide Polly somewhere so no one would ever find her,’ gentle-hearted Katherine suggested.

  Nora’s eyes grew round. ‘You know, I’d never thought of that,’ she admitted.

  ‘She’s too nice to be made into sausages,’ Marilyn said, as she hung over the fence to scratch Polly’s ample rump.

  Polly wriggled in delight. ‘HONK!’ she grunted. ‘HONK! HONK!’

  Marilyn broke into peals of laughter and pointed at Polly. ‘Listen to her, she agrees with me!’

  ‘So she does.’ Nora laughed too, then added under her breath, ‘And so do I!’

  21. London

  Rosa’s journey to London literally took all day. Sitting in the same window seat for hour after hour, Rosa stared at the bleak landscape the lumbering train passed through. Every town and city seemed to have been blown up from the inside out; spewed debris and rubble linked the endless ruins, which even the slow emerging spring did nothing to enhance. Occasional bunches of forlorn daffodils by the train tracks or a blasted fruit tree miraculously in bud did nothing to lift Rosa’s spirits.

  How would this blasted landscape ever recover from a brutal war that had raged for over five years and affected every corner of the land? Rosa’s thoughts flew to her own beloved country, in the grip of the Nazis. What would be left of her beautiful ancient city, Padua, with its cloistered medieval centre, its majestic duomo and priceless works of art?

  ‘Don’t think about it,’ she firmly told herself. ‘Or what kind of trouble you’ll be in for abandoning the factory without leave. Keep focused and concentrate on finding Gabriel.’

  She repeated the sentence like a mantra, until the train finally ground to a halt in Euston Station and disgorged hundreds of bone-weary, hungry troops. Rosa, who had never been to the city before, hadn’t a clue where she was; bewildered, she asked a policeman outside the station how to get to St Thomas’ Hospital.

  ‘Take the Tube to Westminster, then cross over the bridge to the hospital,’ he said.

  Totally confused, Rosa scanned the area. ‘Where is the Tube?’

  ‘Right behind you,’ the policeman said with a smile, and he nodded over her shoulder in the direction of the Underground.

  Clutching an overhead strap, Rosa was squashed and jostled inside the packed compartment, until she finally emerged into the fresh air, which she gratefully breathed in as she walked over Westminster Bridge. The view of the Thames, with barrage balloons floating over the river, denying airspace to the German bombers, was a comforting surprise, as was the dome of St Paul’s, which (she’d read in the newspaper) had so far miraculously survived the continuous London bombing.

  When she reached the hospital entrance Rosa wondered how she was going to locate Gladys. And, even more importantly, what her next step would be now she was actually here in London. Seeing a group of nurses in caps and capes hurrying towards the doors, Rosa stepped forwards.

  ‘Can you tell me how I can find Nurse Gladys Johnson? I think she works on the post-op ward.’

  ‘I don’t know her,’ one of them replied.

  ‘Hold on a minute,’ another nurse remarked. ‘Isn’t she the good-looking brunette who’s going out with Dr Lloyd?’

  Rosa’s ears pricked up at the mention of Reggie’s name.

  ‘Dr Lloyd is her boyfriend,’ she said quickly.

  ‘C4 and C5 are acute post-op – check those,’ the nurse said, before they all went on their way, with their blue capes billowing out behind them.

  Following the hospital signs, Rosa eventually found herself in the corridor that connected the two wards. She was too nervous to walk on to the wards and inquire after Gladys, so she sat on a wooden bench and waited. Suddenly overcome with exhaustion after her long and bewildering journey, she felt her body, which had been tensed up like a sprung coil for weeks, go limp. The loud clattering sound of a metal stretcher made Rosa jump to her feet.

  ‘Excuse me,’ she said to a nurse who was pushing a patient on the trolley. ‘Do you know where I can find Nurse Gladys Johnson?’

  ‘She’s on C5,’ the nurse replied. ‘It’s still visiting time – pop down and see if you can find her,’ she suggested.

  After thanking her, Rosa pushed open the doors of C5 and walked down the tiled corridor, praying that she wouldn’t be interrogated by an officious Ward Sister. Before she even reached the main body of the ward, she heard a lilting laugh that she would have recognized anywhere. Turning in the direction of the laughter, Rosa called softly, ‘Gladys?’

  And to her absolute joy Gla
dys’s head popped around an open doorway.

  ‘ROSA!’ she cried.

  Overwhelmed with relief, Rosa all but ran into Gladys’s arms. ‘Oh, I’m so glad to see you!’ she cried on the verge of tears.

  Seeing her friend’s pale, tired face, Gladys asked, ‘How long have you been here, lovie?’

  ‘Not long,’ Rosa assured her, then smiled as she took in the pleasing picture of tall, slender Gladys in her crisp uniform and starched white cap that was pinned firmly to her neatly pleated mahogany brown hair. ‘When do you finish your shift?’ she asked.

  ‘Not for an hour,’ Gladys replied.

  ‘I’ll wait in the corridor for you,’ Rosa replied.

  Gladys shook her head. ‘You must be worn out after your journey. There’s a Lyons Café round the corner – go and get yourself something to eat. I’ll meet you there as soon as I can get away.’

  A quarter of an hour later Rosa was sitting at a corner table, devouring toast and Marmite and pouring out a third cup of strong Lyons tea. A combination of feeling warm for the first time all day and the low buzz of conversation all around made Rosa’s eyes droop, and when Reggie and Gladys arrived they found her fast asleep.

  ‘Poor kid, she looks exhausted,’ Gladys murmured.

  Hearing their voices, Rosa woke up with a start, rubbing her eyes and looking around in confusion.

  ‘Want a top-up?’ Gladys asked, as she pointed at Rosa’s empty cup.

  ‘Yes, please,’ Rosa replied, then, seeing Reggie standing beside Gladys, she smiled and added, ‘Good to see you again, Reggie.’

  When Gladys returned with more tea and toast, the three of them sat chatting until eventually Rosa could bear the strain no longer.

  ‘I need your help,’ she blurted out.

  Gladys gently took hold of her friend’s trembling hand. ‘What’s the matter, sweetheart?’

  ‘I ran away from the Phoenix!’

  ‘Why?’ Gladys cried.

  ‘I’ll tell you if you promise to hear me out,’ Rosa requested.

  As Rosa’s story unfolded, Gladys more than once looked like she was going to interrupt, but a look from Rosa stifled her. However, when Rosa had finished, Gladys burst out, ‘You can’t rescue your brother single-handed – it’s madness!’